


Haloed

by MirageofGrace



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-09-14
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-14 06:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/512318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MirageofGrace/pseuds/MirageofGrace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angels are being captured, enslaved, traded on the black market for millions a piece.  What's a Winchester to do when he's already trying to save the world from the evil lurking in the dark?  Strap on his boots, grab his favorite weapon, and save some angels, too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Out of all the evil creatures they hunted, Sam sometimes hated humans the most. At least supernatural beings were predictable in what they were going to do—be evil—end of story. Humans, though, were tricky; some good, some bad, but on these reconnaissance missions, it was difficult for Sam to think anything beyond the small percentage of horrible that was contained in his genetic line.

A few years ago, angels had touched down on Earth, making themselves known to humans for the first time in over 2,000 years. They had _mostly_ received a warm welcome, praises perfect for the divine spirits that they were, but the minority had reacted like some humans do—greed outweighing anything, and the need for power. If it hadn’t been for those people, Sam and his brother wouldn’t have to split hunting with rescue missions.

Angels were being captured, enslaved, traded on the black market for millions a piece. It had taken the underground a mere five months to come up with the technology to suppress their Grace, and once it was inserted into collar-form—codenamed ‘ _Halos_ ’ for God’s sake—the market took off disgustingly fast.

While Dean was halfway across town, taking out a poltergeist, Sam was infiltrating a rundown, brick building to find two angels before they could be moved to another location. Probably in the basement, it was always the basement.

Sam knocked out three guys before he found stairs leading down into a cellar. His fingers found the light switch as he hit the last step, his stance relaxing just a fraction as he took in the sight of two angels huddling in a corner. He stepped forward towards the pair and they shuffled further into the wall. Sam was used to it, humans hadn’t exactly been treating those he rescued with kindness.

“Hey, asshole. About time you got your lard ass back down here. I’m still waiting for my candy. You better have brought something with caramel in it.”

Sam’s head snapped up quickly, his arm thrusting out to hold up his pistol. He hadn’t seen anybody else down here, in fact... he still didn’t see anybody else down here.

“Helllloooooo, am I talking to myself here? I can hear your fat mouth breathing, so stop ignoring me.”

The voice was coming from under a sheet in the opposite corner of the room. It was covering something boxy that was taller than Sam himself. Gun at the ready, Sam stepped over and grabbed at the sheet, pulling it off whatever was under it.

An angel, another angel, but this one locked up in a cage, which was something Sam had never seen before. Usually the collars were enough for ‘handlers’ to keep them under control. This one didn’t even have anything on his neck.

The blond angel quirked up an eyebrow, maybe in surprise—dark golden wings slightly cocking in a similar fashion, “Who the hell are you?”

Shit. He wasn’t prepared to pick any sort of lock.

“Sam,” the young Winchester supplied. His eyes darted distractedly around the cage, trying to find any sort of weak spot in the structure.

“Sam,” the angel scoffed, “Maybe I should have been more specific because apparently, you humans are too stupid to answer unvoiced questions.”

Double shit. The damn thing was looking pretty solid. He’d have to worry about it last because he had to get the other two, less mouthy, angels ready. He turned his back to the short blond, reaching the two huddled on the ground while he shoved his gun in the waist of his pants and pulled out a tiny screwdriver.

“If you’re trying to have fun with those two, don’t waste your breath. They’re about as much entertainment as a shot in the ass.”

Sam turned his head, a little stunned by the random comment, but he really took in what he saw in the short angel. His hands were clenching the bars in front of him until his knuckles turned white, his face pressed into his fingers, trying to see as much of what Sam was doing as possible. His chest was puffed up slightly, trying to look bigger than he really was, and doing a great job of it, really. Although the wings were an enormous help as they stretched up to the top of the cage that was obviously too small for any amount of comfort with such a large wingspan.

His expression was something else, though—hard to decipher, but Sam had seen the look more times than he could count on Dean’s face, usually when Sam was injured. The angel was trying to seem like he was indifferent, but golden eyes were glowing with concern. He was trying to distract Sam’s attention to himself.

And it was working. Sam was being distracted, and he didn’t have the time. Any one of those guys he knocked out could be discovered, and then they would all be screwed.

Sam bent down slowly, trying to seem as less threatening as he could. He kept his voice soft, “Hey, I’m here to help.”

As he reached for the first angel, she let out a small squeak of fear, huddling closer to her brother as he tried his best to shield her.

“Dammit, you gigantic douche nozzle, leave them the hell alone.”

Sam snapped his head over his shoulder, letting a harsh hush of air force its way through his teeth.

The caged angel actually looked shocked, “Did you just shush me?”

“I’m trying to get all of you out of here, so could you kindly shut the hell up before you alert the entire house that I’m down here?”

“Well, excuse me, Mr. Superhero. I guess I could have just read your mind. Oh, that’s right, I can’t because of this damn thing on me.”

Sam breathed in deeply to try and calm his nerves. He was anxious to get out of here. Angel Trappers were known to pack a lot of ammunition to protect their ‘stock’ and he really would just like to keep this a covert mission.

He relaxed as well as he could while focusing on the young-looking, brunet male angel of the two. His green eyes were slightly glazed over with constant fear, but he was trying to stare defiantly back at Sam, his brown-speckled wings only slightly fluttering in alarm.

“Please,” Sam kept his voice soft and calm, “I really am here to help. I know some humans have been really cruel to your kind, but there are decent ones out there.”

He held out the tiny screwdriver so the angels could see what he was holding, “If I can have access to the collar around your neck, I can disable it, and we can get out of here. You would be free to go home.”

The female huddling behind her brother tucked her dark red hair behind her ear so she could clearly see Sam. Her hazel eyes glanced over Sam’s shoulder causing him to look behind himself. The female angel and the one locked in the cage seemed to have a silent conversation, but Sam knew the Halo was preventing them from actually communicating telepathically. Still, a message seemed to cross between the angels because the blond gave a small nod.

Hushed shuffling sounds caused Sam to bring his attention back to the two angels in front of him. The girl had shifted to in front of her brother, although he kept his hand on the ground beside her waist and shifted as close to her as he could. Security measures installed into the hardware prevented them from touching to avoid tampering with each other’s collars.

She outstretched her neck and Sam moved slowly, but deliberately, quickly unscrewing the six screws that kept the outer plate in place. He slid it off and placed it to the side before expertly digging his fingers into the wires and shifting, pulling, and reinserting them into different places.

“So, what’s your name?” Sam smiled warmly, trying to distract the angel from the idea that he could really hurt her if he made a mistake. The thought made him sick, himself.

She looked shocked and more than wary, “Why would you ask such a thing?”

Sam shrugged his shoulders as if it meant nothing, “Just curious. I am Sam, by the way.”

She must have been contemplating his motives because she remained silent while Sam continued to make seemingly random scratching noises in the device around her neck. He heard a sharp click of metal releasing and smirked smugly to himself.

“That’s better,” Sam slid it from her neck, snapped it in half with a satisfying crunch, and placed it beside its plate.

“Well, I’ll be damned, kid. You’re actually serious,” came a smooth voice behind him.

The grin on Sam’s lips widened slightly higher as he turned to the green-eyed male. He gestured toward his neck, “May I?”

He scooted closer towards Sam without hesitation and stretched his neck out. Sam hurriedly went to work on the second collar.

“I am Lailah,” the female’s quiet voice spoke. She stayed close to her brother, but did not seem as frightened of Sam as when he first appeared.

Sam smiled warmly, “The angel of the night, right?”

Her lips twitched upward, while her hazel eyes began to sparkle with tiny blue flecks, “Yes.”

“I am Nuriel,” the male angel said, watching Sam with a little more curiosity, “Do you know who I am?”

“I believe,” Sam glanced up at him. The angel was displaying a rather childlike expression that lightened Sam’s heart despite the situation, “Nuriel stands for... fire of the Lord. You bring about hailstorms.”

Nuriel beamed, “That’s me!”

Lailah laughed quietly.

A few seconds later, another sharp click was heard, and Sam was able to snap that collar in half, as well.

Sam rose to his feet, “Hang tight for just a minute.”

“Hang tight?” Nuriel repeated while Lailah looked on in confusion.

“Just sit here,” Sam reiterated as he moved across the room. He nodded at the angel in the cage before going about running his hands over the bars and joints, looking for any points in the structure that could be dismantled.

The blond leaned his shoulder against the wall and watched Sam work, “I gotta admit, kiddo, you are kind of surprising me over here. And I ain’t surprised often.”

“Is that so?” Sam replied distractedly.

The angel stuck his bottom lip out in a pout, slightly put out by Sam’s reaction, “And you’re not even gonna ask _my_ name? Makes me feel kinda like a cheap hooker.”

Sam paused because... _what_? Was ‘hooker’ even supposed to be in an angel’s vocabulary? Or ‘asshole’ or ‘douche nozzle’, for that matter? Cas never strayed from his uptight terminology. This angel was odd, to say the least.

...how the hell did he even know what a cheap hooker felt like?

May as well voice his astonishment out loud, “ _What?_ ”

The angel ignored Sam’s outburst, “Well, Sammy, you can call me Loki.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed, “You are not the Norse trickster. And don’t call me Sammy.”

‘Loki’s’ eyebrows rose and he laughed warmly, “You just never know, do ya, Sammy?”

If this angel wanted to play make-believe, Sam wasn’t in the mood to dispute it; this damn cage was giving him a headache. It was rock solid and he had no tools on him that would be useful for taking it apart.

Sam let a growl of annoyance escape his throat, “So, why _aren’t_ you busting out of this thing? You haven’t been collared.”

The angel’s golden eyes darkened and the smirk fell from his lips. Sam almost instantly regretted asking. Golden wings curled tightly against their owner’s back, giving away no signs of emotion. Having interacted with dozens of angels and Castiel practically being their guide for the past year, Sam knew how difficult it was for angels to hide strong feelings when their wings usually reacted unconsciously—even with the limited control the Halos allowed.

“I might not be _collared_ ,” Loki sneered. He unbuttoned the top three buttons of his shirt and pushed it and his jacket aside to show the left portion of his chest, “But that doesn’t mean I’m not stuck in here.”

Sam inhaled sharply through his nose. He hadn’t expected... _that_ —whatever _that_ even was. He had never seen anything like it.

Sam stepped up to the door of the cage to get a better look. It was gold, a hunk of metal sticking _into_ the angel’s chest. Streams of dried blood ran down every point the thing attached to skin. He finally noticed the peculiar shape.

“Is that a _dog_?” Sam knew he looked as horrified as he felt. The metal had been crafted in the shape of a crouching canine, its paws anchoring itself into skin. Three necks protruded from the body and disappeared at the points of a triangle directly over where Loki’s human heart resided.

“Yep,” the angel smirked bitterly, “Damn thing hurts like a bitch.”

“But, _why_? And where the hell are its heads?”

“As for why, I guess the humans who trapped me thought the guard dog of the Underworld was hilarious irony for decoration on an angel,” he jerked his shirt closed and rebuttoned it, “As for the heads, come on, Sammy, you seem smart enough.”

“They’re buried in your chest,” Sam stated flatly, the dinner in his stomach churning and rolling over sickly, “Why would they even do that?”

“Cause some humans are sick sons of bitches.”

“Yeah, but that thing had to cost some money,” Sam continued, not satisfied, “They wouldn’t just craft something like that without reason. And I highly doubt they did it for the irony considering most of the trappers we run into don’t read anything other than their contracts.”

“What can I say,” Loki gave a truly self-satisfying smirk, “They needed to bring out the heavy artillery to catch me.”

A loud thud above their heads had Sam jumping in his skin, “Shit, _shit_!”

He was nowhere close to getting Loki out of the cage, let alone knowing how to remove that thing from his chest.

The angel’s eyes hardened as he gestured towards his siblings behind Sam, “Go, get them out of here!”

A set of footsteps were landing heavily on the floor above their heads. One of the men Sam had knocked out must have regained consciousness. Sam nodded, he didn’t have a choice. The guy was going to be bringing reinforcement and he had to get the others out while he could. He turned on his heels and started ushering the two angels up the stairs.

“We can’t leave!” Nuriel insisted even as Sam pushed him.

“I’m ordering you to go,” Loki’s voice was different—deep, and old, and something made to be obeyed—a complete contrast to how he sounded just seconds before.

Nuriel looked crestfallen, but didn’t argue, and Lailah was looking down at her feet.

“And, Sam,” Loki’s voice was still even, still deadly sounding despite being trapped, “If you hurt them, I will track you down and smite you painfully before I disintegrate your soul.”

Sam turned back around, the danger in the angel’s tone and the serious expression he wore sent icy chills up his spine, “I’ll keep them safe. You have my word.”

Loki scoffed loudly.

Sam stepped back to the cage, “And I’ll also come back for you.”

The angel laughed humorlessly, “Yeah, I’ll only hold my breath because I don’t have to breathe.”

Sam frowned, a determined look in his eyes, “I promise.”

Loki tried not to show how the bond in Sam’s words affected him, but he could not hide the way his eyes softened ever so slightly or the glowing of the gold in his irises. For a moment, Sam could discern the fear the other angel had been hiding.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe you considering, you know, human,” the angel flippantly waved a hand in the air before rewrapping it around a bar on the door, “Now, get the hell out of here before you begin filling this dank prison with false hope.”

They were words intended to deflect. Sam had become an expert in Dean-Speak and his unrivaled avoidance of emotions, and Loki’s was shockingly similar, but there was no time to do anything. He slid his fingers softly against the back of a warm hand, the only comfort he could offer. Loki was startled at the gesture, glancing at the contact before looking back at Sam. The angel’s eyes were so _appreciative_ from something so small that it caused Sam’s stomach to flutter.

He forced himself to turn back to the angels waiting for him on the stairs and ushered them to the top.

Sam pulled out his gun from his waistband, “You two stay behind me.”

The angels nodded and Sam turned the knob to open the door.

The last words he heard from the room were a soft, “Good luck, Sam.”


	2. Chapter 2

Sam was anxiously pacing the room a week after his encounter with the strange angel he had to leave in the cellar of that old, brick house. It unsettled him to the point of affecting his sleep, and food had basically lost its appeal other than for keeping his body from collapsing in on itself.

Lailah and Nuriel had stayed in his and his brother’s motel room for about two days, recuperating their damaged grace with the help of Cas. They had been surprised to see one of their brothers working so closely with humans, but Castiel had explained patiently that the majority of humans were not like the ones they had run into, and that Dean and Sam were very good, very trustworthy people.

Sam had noticed the slight tinge of pink on his brother’s ears at the angel’s words and mocked him endlessly for it.

Sam sighed, running a hand through his uncooperative hair in aggravation. It bothered him that he hadn’t even been able to get the angel’s real name. Loki. Why would he give out a fake name? What did the angel have to hide?

Although, he could have just been messing with Sam’s head. It seemed anything was possible for the strangely behaving supernatural being.

Neither Lailah nor Nuriel had known Loki’s true identity. Their brother had been concealing his grace and had only let slip enough to prove he ranked higher in the angel hierarchy so they had to obey his command. Castiel had no idea what to make of the situation.

This turned back around to _Why?_ in Sam’s head and continued to frustrate him. In truth, half of his energy stemmed from the fact that he and Dean and been doing careful reconnaissance on the whereabouts of Loki. Sam had been afraid they would lose the angel’s location when the trappers had him moved after the raid, but Cas had been quite adamant with their trail, and managed to give the brothers the new location two states over in Indiana.

It still didn’t make Sam calm down. He was probably going to be anxious until they had the angel out and away from the cage. But then Sam still had no idea how to get the damn—Sam was referring to it as a pendant for lack of a better word, and _horrifying, skin gouger_ did not roll off the tongue—pendant removed from his chest.

The Winchesters had developed a plan, and Sam was going to have to do a little infiltrating. In order to prevent Loki from being sold before they had a chance to figure out the new device, Sam was going to find out where the remote was being stored and nick it as they broke the angel out.

He was so beyond ready, the evening couldn’t come soon enough.

“You are anxious about this upcoming evening,” a familiar, deep voice spoke behind him.

“ _Shit_ ,” Sam spun around, grabbing at his chest. He must have been out of it to not notice the third member of their group pop in, “Don’t sneak up on a guy!”

“I apologize,” Castiel’s lips tugged downward slightly, indicating he was truly apologetic, “Where is Dean?”

“He’s grabbing coffee. He’ll be back...”

The lock in the entrance clicked open forcefully and the motel door slammed against the wall in normal Dean-fashion, “Hey, you’re back!”

Castiel stared in the way only this particular angel could pull off. Before they had started rescue missions, Sam had been convinced staring had been an angel trait, but no, the more time he spent with different angels, the more he realized it was just Castiel.

Sam thought the awkward staring would at least be dimmed once him and his brother stopped dancing around each other. Not a chance—a Winchester just wasn’t that lucky. The staring was just a constant reminder of what his brother and his angel would rather be doing (which was each other) than, well... anything else.

Dean set two cups down on the table and reached for Castiel, pulling him in for a tight hug and a quick kiss. Sam hid a small smile behind his fingers as he rubbed the corners of his lips. He was happy for Dean. He’d never seen his brother so content and peaceful than these past three months after they got together.

Sam walked around the immovable couple and picked up his cup, taking a large gulp and ignoring the heat radiating off the liquid of the gods. He was satisfied with his caffeine until he heard his name.

“Sam is anxious about tonight,” Castiel made no attempts to hide that he was talking about the person that was still in the same room with them.

It amused the young Winchester that Cas had yet to master the art of subtlety even after being down here for a year.

Dean locked his eyes on his younger brother, “What’s the problem, Sammy? Something wrong with the plan?”

“No,” Sam shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know what it is.”

“Bad feeling?” Dean released one of his arms around Castiel so he could shift towards Sam’s direction. Bad feelings were serious in the hunting world. A hunter would die quicker than anything if he ignored his instincts.

But Sam shook his head, “No, not exactly. I guess... Loki’s left some questions in my mind and I can’t seem to stop thinking about what he’s hiding.”

And while he was thinking about the short, blond angel and his secrets—and once the uneasy feelings waned—he couldn’t get the fearful golden eyes out of his head, or that practically obscene smirk. It was distracting in ways Sam could not understand considering he met the guy for all of ten maybe twenty minutes.

“You’ll have plenty of time to interrogate him once we spring’em,” Dean had his common cocky lilt in his voice, “We got this covered.”

Sam nodded, grateful for Dean’s ‘big brother’ front—even if he would never admit it to his brother’s face.

Now, if the next six hours could breeze by.

|~*~|

Sam brushed some non-existent dirt from the sleeve of his suit jacket, an air of power and security seemingly bleeding from his veins. It was a front, of course. He was dead-smack in the center of a group of Angel Trappers’ current hideout, acting as a potential buyer to their current stock. Sam was grateful that the only angel they had was Loki—an angel his host insisted was a ‘must-see’.

“Right this way,” the overweight man spoke somewhat pleasantly, ushering Sam through a door. He couldn’t remember the guy’s name, but all was the better because he just wanted to punch him in the face for making life in general more miserable for everyone.

Sam strolled in confidently though, his face a carefully blank mask. The mostly empty room was bright as hell, lights on to show off the ‘prize’ in the room. He had to force himself to breathe when his gaze landed on Loki.

The angel’s golden eyes widened suddenly before quickly hardening off, “I should have known.”

Shit, Sam was going to be in trouble if Loki even hinted that it was Sam who had busted out the other two angels from their house in Missouri.

Sam stepped closer and bent slightly at the waist to lean near the trapped angel.

“Is it safe? Where the hell is its collar?” he asked without taking his eyes off the blond. If the angel could, Sam was pretty certain he would have been smote into less than ash already.

He could just hear the smile in the man’s voice, “All in due time, but he’s completely in my control, so don’t you worry.” The guy took a controller out of his jacket pocket, and that was what Sam had wanted to find. It looked like something that would pilot a heavy-duty radio-controlled airplane, with two thumb sticks, too many buttons, and a collapsible antenna the man extended.

He flicked both analogs upward and Loki was forced to flex his wings agonizingly against the cage walls in display.

Molten eyes glared at Sam even as they winced from the pain. Sam dropped his demeanor for a split-second to whisper, “Trust me.” He knew it was a lot to ask, considering the circumstances, and the fact they didn’t know each other, but Sam was at a loss as to what to do.

Loki’s eyebrow cocked upward as his left wing shifted downward against his control. He didn’t say anything, but the hatred may have dulled down to a smoldering distrust—at least Sam hoped. Hell, as long as the mouthy angel kept his opinions to himself, he’d call it a success.

The angel jumped as his right wing was pulled sharply behind him to the back wall of the cage. A muffled whimper was torn from his throat.

Sam straightened to his full height, not even bothering to hide the glare that he was wearing, “I’m not going to be interested in damaged goods.”

The man frowned, but got the message and quit messing with the thumb sticks.

Sam’s eyebrows furrowed, his eyes hardening and stance saying that he was a very successful angel entrepreneur that was used to getting his way at all times. He had to keep playing his role because as much as he wanted to knock the asshole to the floor, he had to find out a little more information, especially about that pendant.

“I’m seriously doubting this thing is worth the amount of money you’re asking. I haven’t seen anything that has impressed me,” Sam bit, casually putting his hand in his pocket to continue his attitude that he had more important places to be. These guys wanted $314 million for Loki. The price had floored Sam, but made him even that much more curious. What was so special about this angel that made the price over quadruple of the highest priced angel he’d ever seen previously?

“Trust me. This thing is unique,” the guy’s smirk made Sam’s skin crawl, “Can’t get it anywhere else. No one else would be even capable of harnessing such power.”

“Bite me, you fat-headed fuckstick,” Loki growled, “Don’t go flattering yourself.”

The man chuckled, “Spirited this one is, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from an _archangel_.”

Sam froze, the word echoing inside his mind. Loki also stilled from his fidgeting agitation to just glare instead.

“Archangel?” Sam voiced slowly, carefully.

A sadistic smirk grew on the man’s lips, absolutely thrilled at Sam’s reaction, “Damn thing was an absolute bitch to trap, but you are the first to have the privilege to own the only one caught of the four in existence.”

The guy reached into the cage and grabbed the _archangel’s_ jacket.

“Whoa! Get the hell...” but as soon as Loki reached for the man’s wrist, a button on the controller was being pressed.

The archangel let out a scream of pain, his body lighting up with a dull glow beneath his skin.

Sam grimaced and tightened his fingers into fists at his side. That was the primary mechanism for controlling the angels, a direct jolt of electricity to the grace. Castiel was adamant that angel’s didn’t feel electrocution the way humans did, that it was something much more extreme. Without any protection or preparation, electricity was able to infiltrate their very being and disrupt it.

He had to finish this now or he was going to knock this asshole out, and to hell with the consequences.

The man laughed, yanking Loki’s shirt and jacket aside to show Sam the pendent he saw a little over a week ago. The flakes of blood had mostly fallen off, but the bruises around the pendent were an ugly purple, still showing no signs of healing. Loki’s chest was heaving heavily, but the archangel was doing his best to get himself under control.

Sam showed surprise, but he didn’t have to act the revulsion he was feeling, “And just what the hell is that thing? Look what the damn thing did, it ruined the product.”

“Necessary,” the man spoke, “An ordinary collar was not going to hold an archangel. This thing was designed specifically to tie down the extraordinary power.”

“And just how does this eyesore work?” Sam scoffed, “It looks hideous.”

“The three heads of Cerberus—which is a nice touch by our contacts, if I do say so myself...”

“I didn’t ask,” Sam interrupted, “Just get on with it.”

The man frowned, but continued, “Right, well, like I was saying, the three heads are buried into the chest and are physically containing the archangel’s grace in-between its jaws. Direct contact is being made at all times...”

“Don’t talk,” Loki spat between breaths, “like I’m not hear. Might hurt my feelings.”

The man casually pressed the same button on the controller, but Loki was ready this time. His knees buckled and he had to grab the bars in front of him to keep from falling, but with his teeth biting into his bottom lip, he didn’t make a sound.

“As I was saying,” the man rolled his eyes in annoyance, “the teeth of each head are made of silver and are embedded in the archangel’s grace. This provides a constant, direct electrical current instead of the periodic bursts. But, if it gets out of hand, you can crank up the wattage.”

Sam was already brainstorming on how to remove the device safely when the controller was handed out to him.

“Take it for a spin. It’s thrilling.”

Sam nodded, still looking unimpressed. He tried to keep calm with his next statement, “Not really much of a test drive with it still locked up.”

“Lucky for you, I grabbed the key. I knew you just wouldn’t be able to pass this one up,” the man held up a small, key ring.

Sam couldn’t contain himself anymore. This was the perfect opportunity, and he was going to take it and get Loki the fuck out of here. His body betrayed no movement as his fist quickly shot up and connected to the man’s chin. It was a solid hit and he went down to the floor and stayed out.

“Nice swing,” Loki grinned, but he was still leaning up against the wall for support so Sam wasn’t going to buy the aloof attitude. A constant disruption of his grace was apparently occurring just under his vessel’s skin. Sam wasn’t even going to try to begin to image what hell that would feel like.

Sam grabbed the key from where it was thrown and got the door to the cage open, “Can you walk?”

Loki snorted, “Please kid, didn’t you hear. Archangel over here.”

He took one step away from the wall and collapsed. Sam’s quick reflexes caught him before he hit the floor.

“Right. Archangel,” Sam cocked an eyebrow down at the blond.

“Shudd’up or I won’t let you carry me out of here,” Loki quipped back, leaning heavily against Sam’s side.

A small smile of amusement actually tugged at Sam’s lips. The angel was mouthy even when he looked on the verge of passing out. It was... well, not an admirable trait, but Sam could appreciate humor in a shitty situation.

He tucked the controller into the back of his pants where his gun should have been had he not been patted down before he was allowed to enter.  
Sam bent down easily and swept the archangel off his feet into a cradle hold.

“Whoa!” Loki’s arms automatically went around Sam’s neck, “Could warn a guy before you go all bridal on him!”

Sam shifted his hold until Loki was positioned comfortably against his chest, the warmth of the angel soaking through his shirt and into his skin.

“Your wings okay like this?”

Loki raised an eyebrow, “Aren’t you just the chivalrous gentleman to the damsel in distress.”

“Can’t you just answer the question?” Sam countered gruffly.

“Yes, the wings are fine. Now, let’s get moving. I don’t really feel up to taking out the other nine stooges in this place.”

That was a bit of an understatement. Sam knew Loki was unable to do much of anything unless he worked the controller, and he had no idea how.  
Instead of calling the angel on his bullshit, he tilted his head up to the ceiling, “Cas!”

“Lost your mind already?” Loki smirked.

Sam ignored him because a moment later, a second angel had popped into the room.

“Castiel! What the hell are you doing around my neck of the woods?!” Loki greeted warmly.

Cas stared at the bundle in Sam’s arms for a minute, his blue eyes sharp and focused, head tilted to one side, “Excuse me, but... who are you exactly?”

“Family reunion later,” Sam urged, “Is Dean ready with the distraction? The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

“Yes, he finished setting up forty minutes ago,” Castiel confirmed.

“Great. Tell him ‘I’m ready when he is’.”

Castiel nodded and disappeared.

“So, what’s my little bro doing with you, and whoever the hell this Dean guy is?”

“Long story, but he’s helping us out.”

Loki opened his mouth to say something else, but a loud explosion rocked the building causing Sam to jerk forward and almost lose his balance.

“Dammit, I said _near_ the building, not on top of it!” Sam growled in annoyance.

“I believe that is our cue,” Loki urged, “So, let’s make like a tree and get the hell out of dodge.”

Sam blinked for a moment, trying to understand if that was supposed to make sense. He shook himself out of his reverie and made his way into the hallway, archangel still encased in his arms. Sam turned left and headed towards the door.

“Um...” Loki started, “Don’t know how many action movies you’ve seen, but it’s usually not the smartest move to walk right out the front door.”

“Don’t worry about it. The ones that haven’t gone to see what the explosion was about will be distracted by Castiel on the other side of the building.”

Loki stared straight up into Sam’s eyes, “What if they catch him?”

The worry was clear in the elder brother’s voice, but Sam had plenty of time to accept and admire Castiel’s abilities.

“He’ll be fine,” Sam said confidently.

Loki seemed to take the declaration at face value, but didn’t say anything else, or rather, he didn’t have a chance to say anything else.

The distinct metallic click had Sam freezing in his tracks even before he heard “ _Don’t move!_ ”.

“Nothing ever goes smoothly for you, does it?” Loki sighed.

Sam gave him a dirty look.

“Dr...” and that’s all the faceless man with the gun got out before a blur came running out behind another doorframe and crashed into it.

“Go!” Dean shouted. He brought the butt of his revolver down onto the back of the guy’s head, “Move!”

Dean picked himself up and easily caught up to Sam, yanking the door open, as they made a fast escape to the Impala. Dean jumped into the driver seat and Sam slid into the back, angel still in his arms.

Dean was already speaking to the wheel as he shoved the keys into the ignition, “Cas, let’s go! Waiting on...”

“I am here,” Castiel irrelevantly stated as he popped into the passenger seat.

Dean was already kicking it into gear, and speeding away to the sounds of gunshots. 

Ten minutes later and the elder Winchester let out a sigh of relief, “Think we lost ‘em.”

Castiel turned around to stare at the angel still wrapped in Sam’s arms.

“What, kid? Got a staring problem?” Loki snorted in annoyance. He had removed his arms from around Sam’s neck, but was still leaning heavily against his chest.

“Why do you shield your grace from me?”

Sam rolled his eyes—Castiel was forgetting to blink and it was getting creepy.

“Because it’s mine and I don’t need you putting your grubby little hands all over it.”

Castiel moved back, blue eyes dulling with sadness, “I apologize.”

“Don’t apologize to that asshat. And you,” Dean eyed Loki in his rearview mirror, “stop being an asshole or we’re leaving you on the side of the road.”

“No, we are not!” Castiel exclaimed, “He is still my brother!”

“Cas... no,” Dean shook his head, “I wasn’t serious.”

Loki laughed, the vibrations going through Sam’s chest and warming his insides. He shifted and, wow, maybe he needed to go get laid if his body was having this sort of reaction. It had been awhile. Sam shifted again so the archangel wouldn’t notice.

“You tell’em, Cassie!” Loki egged on.

Castiel turned back around, “You are familiar.”

Sam was getting tired of this mystery game, “Welcome the first successful _archangel_ rescue.”

Okay, maybe he was a little cranky, too. His traitorous body wasn’t helping his fantastic mood, either.

“Seriously?!” Dean exclaimed.

“ _Arch_...” Castiel started in thought. His eyes shifted to Loki’s wings and widened in what Sam was guessing was horror before he disappeared.

Loki stuck his bottom lip out (which was not affecting Sam in the slightest), “You just ruined my fun.”

“Where the hell did Cas go?!” Dean barked. Sam could hear the justified worry in his older brother’s voice. Castiel rarely pulled the disappearing act without saying anything, anymore.

Sam looked down to the blond archangel with concern. There were only four archangels and if Castiel left in such a hurry...

“You’re not Lucifer, are you?!”

The Impala swerved into the other lane before coming to a sharp halt on the opposite side of the road. Dean was fast on the draw, grabbing his gun and cocking it in one fluid motion before pointing it at Loki’s head.

“Hey!” Loki moved his head to the side, but Dean kept his aim true, “That may not kill me, buddy boy, but I guarantee that it _will_ piss me the hell off. I’m not in the mood for a new hole in my vessel right now.”

“I don’t give two shits what you’re in the mood for. Who the hell are you?!” Dean was already glaring invisible bullet holes into the angel.

“Do you really think my little bro’ would skedaddle and leave you alone with the devil? I mean, yeah, maybe some of the other siblings wouldn’t think twice, but you must not know Cassie that well,” Loki leveled his gaze at Dean, “Nice faith you have in him, by the way.”

Sam caught the guilt that wormed it’s way into his brother’s mind before he had a chance to hide it. His brother uncocked the gun and threw it in the passenger seat, cursing under his breath.

Sam was still cautious of the warm bundle in his arms, “So, why did Cas leave so quickly?”

Loki sighed, “Because despite _not_ being the devil, I _am_ still an archangel. Seraphs don’t usually associate with us.”

“So...?” Sam urged.

Loki rolled his eyes, “It’s like a private meeting a five-star general. He was caught off guard and probably ran to go wet himself.”

Sam couldn’t see that as a likely scenario, even figuratively. Castiel hardly ever let anything bother him, unless it concerned Dean.

“I’m that much of a big deal,” Loki continued.

“Quite full of yourself,” Sam commented.

“Well, Sasquatch, I’ve earned my halo. I deserve the recognition,” Loki smirked.

“So, which one are you,” Sam inquired, “I can’t just keep thinking of you as Loki, when you’re not.”

“Awe,” ‘Loki’ cooed, “You think about little ol’ me?”

Sam could feel the tips of his ears heat up, and he hoped they couldn’t be seen in the dark and under his hair.

“If you’re not Lucifer, that leaves Raphael, Gabriel, and Michael.”

“Guess,” ‘Loki’ grinned.

Sam pulled a bitch face, “Well, it would be laughable if the leader of God’s Army was caught...”

“Hey...” Loki interrupted indignantly.

“And you don’t seem much like a healer to me, so I guess I’ll go with Gabriel.”

The archangel actually stuck out his bottom lip and pouted.

The smirk on Sam’s face reached his eyes easily, “Am I right?”

“I lied. I am Lucifer... and you’re no fun at this game.”

Sam laughed, the movement actually shaking the archangel quite a bit.

“Well, Gabriel,” Sam held out his hand, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Gabriel eyed Sam’s hand for a moment with a cocked eyebrow. Sam was beginning to think he had no clue what to do with a handshake—much like Cas had at first—when Gabriel obnoxiously wrapped his arms around Sam’s neck and planted a rather wet kiss on the younger Winchester’s cheek.

“Heroes can’t expect just a handshake from their distressed damsels!” Gabriel cried.

Sam was beginning to think the archangel was going to be more trouble than all three of them could handle.


	3. Chapter 3

"Dean," Sam whispered—whispered being in a relative sense since the music blasting from the radio was loud enough to softly vibrate the seats.

The elder Winchester shot a glance to the rear-view mirror to indicate he had heard.

"Don't you think we should find some place to stop for the night. You've been driving for..." Sam checked his watch, "...ten hours."

Dean turned the volume down to a manageable level, "I wanna put a little more distance between us and those trappers."

Sam's eyes slid shut as he tried stretching muscles without dislodging the archangel still resting against his chest. Gabriel had been silent (a blessing, really) for the last two hours, his breathing calm and steady as if sleeping, if angels needed to sleep. Then again, maybe the pendant was disrupting his grace to the point of requiring sleep. Sam didn't have a clue, he needed to research, but he still tried not to disrupt him.

...out of politeness. Not because Sam found the peaceful archangel adorable or anything.

Sam jerked his head to the side feeling a satisfying crack in his neck. A groan automatically escaped from his throat, the sound muffled as feathers invaded his mouth. He tried his best to spit them out, but the angel's wings were everywhere, even though they were withdrawn as flat as they could be against Gabriel's back. It was a lost cause.

He managed to get most of the fluff off his tongue to finally reply to his brother, "We're not even in the same state anymore. I think we can pull over for a few hours."

"You think they wouldn't follow us to the end of the Earth for an archangel?" Dean growled, "Those bastards are gonna be right on our tails."

Sam tilted his head forward, stretching cramped neck muscles, his nose burying in more feathers, "You're exhausted. And I won't be much help with anything if I don't get out of this backseat soon. I haven't been made to be cramped back here since I was fifteen."

The Impala was silent for a few minutes until Dean let out a long breath through his nose, "Yeah, alright. Saw a sign for a motel a few miles back. Should be coming up within the next ten minutes."

Sam sighed in relief. A bed sounded like a little miracle at this point. He rested his chin atop Gabriel's head, his cheek continually brushing against a wing as his breathing shifted the archangel. The feathers were soft, the edges sliding against his skin and tickling his jaw line. He shifted his face into the feeling to prevent the light sensation.

He froze ten seconds later when his brain caught up with the notion that he was essentially _nuzzling_ Gabriel's wing.

"Would you... mmm'fff, ssstop movin'," a drowsy voice complained from his chest, "Tryin' to do something I'm not actually made to do here."

Sam forced himself not to panic, trying like hell to keep his heart from beating quicker and his face from heating up.

"What? Sleep?"

"Ha, no," Gabriel sank further against Sam, his wings shifting and tugging from where they laid trapped between their bodies, "Closer to meditation. Trying to shift grace away from certain areas of a vessel requires a hell of a lot of concentration."

Sam's lips tilted in a frown, not that the archangel could see. He hadn't forgotten that even as Gabriel seemed peaceful, his very being was being molested by electricity that was just shy of trying to tear him apart. His fingers itched and flexed restlessly, his body wanting to move and start tearing into the pendent to find how to remove it.

"So, how's that going?"

"Sucks," the archangel grumbled, "It's hard enough folding something the size of a large continent into a martini glass. Doesn't exactly give me much room to maneuver."

Dean turned the Impala off the highway and almost immediately into an empty parking lot. A few of the overhead spotlights blinked and threatened to go out and the sign of the motel name had three missing letters, but overall, they had stayed in worse places.

The Impala was shut off and Dean slipped out from the driver's seat, heading towards the front office.

Sam leaned his head back against the window, "Is there...?"

And then he was falling. The sensation sent panic through his body, his hands instinctively lashing out to grab hold of something. His fingers curled around softness, but it didn't stop his acceleration.

He hit the ground, gravel digging into his back, a large weight landing heavily on his chest forced the air out of his lungs. And then he heard his brother's obnoxious laughter.

"Oh, God, I hate you so much," Sam shot Dean his best bitchface.

"Your head is going to be decorating my mantle, Winchester, when I figure out which way is up," the threat had no foundation as it was muffled and coming from somewhere near Sam's armpit.

"Don't be a bunch of bitches," and Sam could _hear_ the smirk his brother was pitching even as he turned and walked to the check-in desk.

"Jerk!" Sam yelled.

"Bitch!" Dean shot over his shoulder.

"Shit, ow." The abrupt force of pain had not helped his cramping back at all.

"You can say that, again," Gabriel shifted, untangling his body from Sam's and standing up. He grabbed at his left wing, trying to maneuver it to peer over the bony ridge, "I think you ripped out some feathers."

Sam sat up quickly, ignoring the sudden rush of blood to his head. He stared in horror at the two golden feathers caught between his fingers.

"I'm so sorry!" the hunter blurted out as he quickly picked himself off the ground, "I hadn't meant to...!"

"Oh, can it, Samsquatch," Gabriel waved a dismissing hand at him, "They'll grow back."

"But, I...!" he made an abortive movement to the archangel's wings, "Wait... did you call me Samsquatch?"

"Yeah, you're like the giant to my Keebler elf, the moose to my mouse," Gabriel cocked his neck back to glance up at Sam, his golden eyes shining in amusement in the horrible lighting, "You're tall, kiddo."

Sam caught the laugh in his throat, but couldn't manage to stave off the upward tilt of his lips—until the two golden feathers caught his attention, again. He instantly frowned, holding them out gingerly to the archangel.

"Sorry... here... I'm not exactly sure..." but Gabriel cut him off.

"Quit with the puppy eyes before I have to start worrying about you marking everything in site. Keep 'em if you want 'em," Gabriel stretched nonchalantly, giving his wings a restrictive flap, "Throw 'em away—I don't care. Not like I can reattach them."

Sam glanced between the feathers and the archangel, not quite sure what to say. Luckily, Dean gave him something else to focus on as the crunch of rock beneath his boots caught their attention.

"Here," Dean tossed the Impala's keys to Sam, "do something useful."

Sam glared at his brother, but grabbed their bags from the trunk and the Halo's remote from the floorboards. He slipped the two feathers discreetly into his pocket and followed Dean inside the room, Gabriel right on his heels.

Dean was already pacing through their little room, his cell phone clutched in his hands, when Sam stepped over the threshold.

"I'm just gonna..." he waved the phone in the air.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, give Cas a call."

Dean was out the door, already thumbing buttons. Sam winced as he heard plastic crack in resistance to his brother's not-so-delicate administrations. All well... the phone had lasted two months, was about time to put it out of its misery anyway.

He shoved the bags against the far wall and placed the remote and his laptop on the table, opening the lid and powering it up.

"Alright, sit here and let me take a look at it," Sam pulled out a chair and gestured towards it.

Gabriel was glaring hard at his right wing before he turned his attention to Sam, a mask of indifference set firmly in place. He took two steps before his wing fluttered from side to side.

Sam's eyebrows narrowed in concern, "You alright?"

"Yeah," Gabriel brushed off, "Just a little restless—was cooped up in that car too long."

His wing jerked and shuddered, an unhappy grunt ripping from Gabriel's throat.

"That doesn't look like alright," Sam stepped up into the archangel's space, "What's wrong with it?"

"Nothing!" Gabriel snapped.

Sam placed his hands up in a gesture of peace, his eyes widening into a sad, worried face that Dean always told him he exploited way too often.

Gabriel took a step back and huffed, glancing at the ground then back up at Sam. He waved his hand towards his wing. "Spasm," he mumbled, "I can't stretch it."

Sam understood and gave, what he hoped, was a reassuring look. Halos only allowed for so much movement.

Sam reached to the table and picked up the remote, running his bitten nail along the side in a nervous motion. Gabriel was watching him with rapt attention.

"May I?" Sam asked warily, gesturing towards the controller.

Gabriel crossed his arms against his chest, leaning back and baring his weight on one leg. His lips were turned downward and he was glaring at the remote.

Finally, he sighed, "Just...fine."

Sam gave a comforting smile and placed his thumb lightly on the analog stick.

"You sure?"

"It's not gonna kill me," Gabriel growled, "and the damn thing needs to be moved anyway."

As if agreeing, his wing gave another flutter.

Sam gently moved the stick out to the side. Gabriel let out a soft gasp as his wing slowly started to reach towards the wall.

"This okay?"

"Yeah," he confirmed, running a hand through his hair, "Just... you know... go slow. They haven't really been stretched in weeks."

The large, golden wing was fascinating to Sam. He'd seen dozens of angel wings, but never with so much time to actually stop and consider what he was seeing. Usually, he was too busy focusing on removing collars and once they were gone, most angels immediately hid them. There was never any time to just _look_ at them.

Gabriel's wings couldn't be considered anything but beautiful. Even in the dinginess of the light, the color shown a brilliant gold, matching the archangel's hair and eyes. Each feather was set in its place in perfect rows, only shifting to accommodate the movement of the structures underneath. They were glorious, everything a human would expect an angel's wings to be. And they looked so incredibly soft that Sam just wanted to card a few fingers through them, maybe see what would happen if he ruffled a few feathers in the wrong direction.

Would Gabriel be more amused or annoyed? Or maybe aroused...

"Stop!" Gabriel barked urgently, "Sam, stop!"

Sam immediately released his thumb from the remote, "What? What's wrong?!"

"Not..." the archangel released a heavy breath from his nose, "Charlie horse."

Sam set down the remote and stepped closer, "Where?"

Gabriel had wrapped an arm around his body, trying to reach a spot somewhere close to his back. He let out a pained whine as his wing jerked upward.

"Let me," Sam impatiently slapped the archangel's hand out of the way while he bent down, the look of surprise completely missed by the hunter.

He dug his fingers into feathers near the base of the wing, not even really thinking about what he was actually doing. He expertly ran up and down muscle structures until he felt a knot about the size of a quarter beneath his fingertips.

"Here?" he asked while pressing down.

Gabriel groaned and nodded.

Sam rubbed at the stubborn knot, rolling it beneath his fingers, digging his thumb up along the sides of muscle. He continually moved in small circles, upsetting feathers, the soft down tickling his skin. He was fascinated by the feel of the strong appendage under his touch.

A soft whimper came from the archangel followed by a whispered, "Dammit," that Sam had caught anyway.

"You okay?" he asked, still working against the resistance of the sore muscle.

"Yeah," came a fast reply, "Just stiff iz'all."

Sam finally felt the tension release, not only in the knot but in the archangel, as well. Gabriel had taken to leaning on Sam with his arm, then his side as he finished soothing the last of the pain away. Both of his wings had started to droop toward the floor.

"Anything else that needs rubbed out?" Sam softly spoke because the archangel's ear was just under his chin.

Gabriel stiffened, his body straightening as he took his own weight, again. A lecherous smirk worked its way to his lips, "Oh, I got something you can rub out, Sammy-boy."

Sam's eyes shot open. He groaned to draw attention away from the flush that was burning into his cheeks, "What are you, twelve?"

"And you're blushing like a virgin girl," Gabriel shot back.

The young hunter ran a hand down his face, "Just go sit over there, and try to behave."

Gabriel _sauntered_ passed Sam, waggling his eyebrows, "And if I don't?"

"Just sit down and shut up," Sam pinched the bridge of his nose in distress. He felt a migraine begging to start behind his left eye, "And unbutton your shirt."

"I like you all forceful," the archangel purred, but at least he sat down, "And I like where this is going."

Sam grabbed the small screwdriver kit from his bag as Gabriel slowly unpopped each button, giving a lewd wink halfway down. The young Winchester rolled his eyes and just tried to keep the burning sensation from spreading on his face.

He knelt down and shifted the archangel's shirt until the pendant was in view. Getting a closer look, Sam could see the irritation of the skin adjacent to the embedded heads, the multitude of different colors of bruising surrounding the entire thing.

"This is getting better by the minute."

"Gabriel," Sam growled in warning.

"What's the price for a lap dance?"

" **Gabriel!** " Sam barked.

The archangel looked less than impressed.

Sam inhaled sharply through his nose, "Will you please just let me concentrate?"

"Sure thing, Sam-a-lam. All you needed to do was ask."

Sam blinked slowly in exasperation, but immediately started dismantling the pendant while the archangel had his mouth shut. Four tiny screws held the plating together and he quickly had it off only to stare at the amount of wires that the internal components contained. He huffed out a breath to calm himself and grabbed for a small probe to move wires about and see underneath them.

This thing was just hardware mounted onto hardware cauterized onto more hardware.

He pulled his laptop closer to the edge of the table, grabbed a pencil and paper, and set off to work.


End file.
